Run
by FinnlovesRachel
Summary: "I ran everywhere. Raced everyone. I loved the wind in my hair. Running aired my soul. It made me feel ALIVE. And Now? I'm stuck in this bed, knowing I'll never run again." Small Finchel parts. I own nothing.
1. My Life is Over

Run

Preview

MY LIFE IS OVER.

Behind the morphine dreams is the cruel nightmare of reality.

The reality I can't face.

I cry myself to sleep, wishing, pleading, praying to a God I don't know of that I'll wake up from this, but the same nightmare always awaits me.

"Shhh," my mother, Emma whispers. "It'll be okay." But her eyes are swollen and red from crying and even I know that she doesn't believe what she's saying.

Will, my father-now that's a whole different story. He doesn't even try to lie to me. What's the use? He and I both knows what this means.

My hopes, my dreams, my life… it's over.

The only one who seems completely unfazed is Dr. Tidwell "Hello there, Rachel!" he says amiably. "How are you feeling?"

I don't know if it's day or night. The second day or the first, and he wants me to answer that? I just stare at him. What am I supposed to say, Fine?

He inspects my chart. "So let's have a look, shall we?"

He pulls the covers off my lap, and I find myself face to face with the truth.


	2. The Truth

He pulls the covers off my lap, and I find myself face to face with the truth.

My right leg has no foot.

No ankle.

No shin.

It's just my thigh, my knee, and a stump wrapped in a mountain of gauze.

My eyes flood with tears as Dr. Tidwell removes the bandages and inspects his handiwork. I turn away, only to see my mother fighting back as many of the flood of tears as she can. "It'll be okay," she tries to assure me and herself as well, holding tightly to my hand. "We'll get through this."

Dr. Tidwell is maddeningly cheerful. "This looks excellent, Rachel! Nice vascular flow, good color… you're already healing beautifully."

I glance at the monstrosity below my knee.

It's red and bulging. Fat staples run around my stump like a big ugly zipper, and trust me; it is not the pretty sight.

"How's the pain? Are you managing okay?" he asks.

I wipe away my tears and nod, because the pain in my leg is absolutely nothing compared to the one in my heart.

None of their meds will make that one go away… unfortunately.

He goes on, upbeat. "I'll order a shrinker sock to control the swelling. You're residual limb will be extremely tender and applying the shrinker sock may be uncomfortable at first, but it's important to get you into one. Reducing the swelling and shaping your limb is the first step to rehabilitation." A nurse appears to re-bandage me as Dr. Tidwell makes notes in my chart and adds, "A prosthetist will be in later to apply it."

Tears continue to run down my face uncontrollably.

I don't have the strength to hold them back.

He softens. "The surgery went beautifully, Rachel." He says this like he's trying to soothe reality. "And considering everything, you're actually very lucky. You're alive, of course, for one. Also, you still have your knee, which makes a huge mobility. BK amputees have it much better and easier than AK amputees."

"BK? AK?" my mother asks, obviously confused.

"Oh!" He says, catching himself and turns to my mom. "Sorry. Below knee. Above knee. In the world of prosthetic legs, it's a critical difference." He packs up some things, preparing to leave. "There will obviously be an adjustment period, but Rachel is young and active, and I have full confidence that she will be able to return to a completely normal life."

My mother nods, but she seems dazed. Like she's wishing my father was there to help her absorb what's being said.

Dr. Tidwell flashes a final smile in my direction. "Focus on the positive, Rachel. We'll have you up and walking again in short order."

This is from the man who sawed off my leg.

He whooshes from the room, leaving a dark, heavy cloud of unspoken behind.

My mother smiles and coos reassuringly, but in truth, she knows what I'm thinking.

What does it matter?

I'll never run again.


	3. I Am A Runner

Chapter 2

I AM A RUNNER.

That's what I do.

That's who I am.

Running is all I know, or want or care about.

It was a race across the soccer field in a third grade that swept me into my true love of running.

Breathing the sweet smell of spring grass.

Sailing over dots of blooming clover.

Beating all the boys.

All of them.

After that, I couldn't stop. I ran everywhere. Raced everyone I loved the wind across my cheeks, and through my hair.

Running aired my soul

It made me feel alive.

And now?

I'm stuck in this bed, knowing I'll never run again.


End file.
